love.

If a person about to buy a horse should, on trying him for an hour or
two, discover that his temper did not suit him, or that his paces were
not pleasant, and should in consequence restore him to the owner: and
if another, on the same errand, should come day after day for weeks,
or months, or even years, cantering him about over the pavement, and
scouring over the whole country; his answer being, when asked if he
intended to purchase, that he liked the horse exceedingly, but that he
hadn't got a stable, or a saddle, or a curb-chain, or, in fact, some
one or other of the little necessaries of horse gear; but that when he
had, that was exactly the animal to suit him--he never was better
carried in his life. Which of these two, do you esteem the more honest
and more honourable?

When you make up your mind, please also to make the application.

[Illustration]

A NUT FOR THE POLICE AND SIR PETER.

[Illustration]

When the Belgians, by their most insane revolution, separated from the
Dutch, they assumed for their national motto the phrase "_L'union fait
la force_." It is difficult to say whether their rebellion towards the
sovereign, or this happy employment of a bull, it was, that so
completely captivated our illustrious countryman, Dan, and excited so
warmly his sympathies for that beer-drinking population. After all,
why should one quarrel with them? Nations, like individuals, have
their coats-of-arms, their heraldic insignia, their blazons, and their
garters, frequently containing the sharpest sarcasm and most poignant
satire upon those who bear them; and in this respect Belgium is only
as ridiculous as the attorney who assumed for his motto "_Fiat
justitia_." Time was when the chivalrous line of our own garter,
"_Honi soit qui mal y pense_," brought with it, its bright
associations of kingly courtesy and maiden bashfulness: but what
sympathy can such a sentiment find in these degenerate days of
railroads and rack-rents, canals, collieries, and chain-bridges? No,
were we now to select an inscription, much rather would we take it
from the prevailing passion of the age, and write beneath the arms of
our land the emphatic phrase, "Push along, keep moving."

If Englishmen have failed to exhibit in machinery that triumphant El
Dorado called perpetual motion, in revenge for their failure, they
resolved to exemplify it in themselves. The whole nation, from John o'
Groat to Land's End, from Westport to Do